


An Unlikely Hero

by FrostWolfGirl



Category: My So-Called Life
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 02:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20418731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostWolfGirl/pseuds/FrostWolfGirl
Summary: It's been four years since Angela got out of Jordan's car for the last time.On New Years Eve, Angela Chase now 19 years old, finds herself in the last place she ever expected to be. It's a chance at a fresh start. A new beginning for two people in a new millennium.





	1. Club Nostalgia

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Attempted Rape right out the gate, folks. If you have trouble with that, then just don't read this fic because it will come up again. 
> 
> This was going to just be a one-shot, but the one-shot was so long I decided to break it into two chapters. I'm thinking this will probably take about 8 to 10 chapters total. 
> 
> Again, I had a sudden need to write these two.

In hindsight, she should have never gone to that club to begin with. Clubs weren’t really her thing anymore, not since… Well…

Something had come over her, some sort of nostalgic need, an itch that she needed to scratch. Reyanne had done a lot to change her in their short friendship. Parts of her would never be the same. Her heart was one of them. Her hair was another. She’d changed from the flaming red to a jet black. Red just made her think too much of Rey, but black was a nice change. It was the color of her heart, she’d joke. Because after the fight she and Jordan had in his car that led to her walking home in the middle of winter, she vowed she’d never let anyone in her heart like that again.

Because, in truth, her heart would always belong to Jordan.

He tried a time or two to talk to her after that. But she never responded to his notes. If he came to her house, she asked her parents to tell him she was sick again. Eventually, he stopped coming over. Eventually, he wrote four words on a piece of paper and that was the end.

_I’ll always be yours. – J_

The note had more impact on her than she’d thought. But not too long after that Jordan dropped out of school and left town. Rickie stayed in touch with him, but he never told her where Jordan ended up. And eventually she graduated and moved on to Penn State. She threw herself into her course work, using it as an excuse to focus on something, anything, other than her loneliness. Of course, she was friendly with her dorm mate. The girl, Savanah, was nice enough. They shared movie nights on weekends and agreed that the Christmas lights strung on the ceiling were better than the florescent overheads.

It was Savanah’s idea to go to the club that night. She begged Angela to go with her, that kind of innocent pleading that reminded her of who she was when she first met Rey. To Savanah, Angela was her Rey. She had to pay it forward a little and immediately promised herself never to sleep with anyone that Savanah might find even sort of attractive.

Angela agreed against her better judgement. It was New Years Eve, 1999. A lot like that winter night when she got out of Jordan’s car and heard him speed off into the night, leaving her tears to freeze on her eyelashes. She hated winter nights like that. She convinced herself that going to a club will help her heal, even though she’d never fully healed from that. She was 19 years old and she still felt a pang when she remembered her flame from four years ago. When was she going to get over it? She still had his last note in her wallet, how pathetic.

She wasn’t awkward anymore when she dressed up. She felt like an adult, slipping on a form fitting dress that hugged her curves like the woman she’d developed into. It was black, like her hair, with sparkles that glittered. Everything had fucking glitter on it these days! She had smoky eyes and black lipstick. She wore her hair longer now, almost half way down her back. She put a choker on that Jordan gave her. It was still her favorite. And when Savanah was ready, they stepped out into the night like they owed the campus.

She didn’t see him, be he saw her the second she walked in the door. He had to blink a few times to be sure, because it didn’t matter how long they’d been apart, he thought he saw her everywhere. His heart sped up at the sight of her, the one that got away. His Angela, the one he still belonged to even now.

“What’s amatter, baby? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?” the girl on his arm asked, cracking her gum in his ear. He hates that she does that. It’s always driven him crazy.

“Don’t do that,” he said, looking down at her. She looks nothing like Angela. A pretty blonde number that’s too tall and too thin for her breasts. But she liked him and he was lonely. So, he let her hang out and when the mood took him, he’d take her to bed. He never fucked her with the lights on. He liked to imagine she was someone else. It was the only way he could finish.

“Do what?” she asked, cracking her gum again. Jordan flinched with annoyance.

“That,” he said. “The way you crack your gum in my ear. It’s fucking annoying.”

“Well you don’t have to be a dick about it,” she scoffed, pulling away.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes and turned back out to the crowd. Shit! He can’t find her anymore! Goddamn this woman on his arm for distracting him! He stood up without hesitation, trying to tower over the people in the club. But her hair was different and she didn’t stand out as much. He cursed under his breath.

“What’s with you tonight?” his girl asked with a huff.

“Nothing,” he answered absently.

“You’re like, on edge or something,” she went on and even the tone of her voice is starting to wear on him. He’d been on the verge of dumping her for months, but she was just convenient and he was tired of being alone. 

“Just, leave me alone, Karen,” he said turning to her with annoyance. “Go away.”

“Are you dumping me?” she asked loudly, a few people turning their heads to look at her.

“I guess I am,” he replied casually.

“Fuck you,” he spat, tossing her drink in his face. She stormed off into the crowd and for the first time in months, Jordan Catalano felt like he could finally breathe again. A few people stare at him a while longer while he dries off his face, but he doesn’t care. His Angela is in there somewhere and he has to find her.

Angela was blissfully ignorant of the whole thing. She’s already gotten a drink and found someone to dance with. Her party girl came up like a ghost from her past and instantly she fell right back into old patterns. Her fake ID was much better these days and she looked old enough for drinks, not that anyone was carding her this deep into the club. Girls with trays of drinks were openly passing them out to whomever wanted one. She took a flute of what wasn’t champagne at all but some imitation bullshit and tossed it back with one gulp and then kept dancing. For a while Savanah was with her, but when a cute boy pulled Savanah toward a table in the back, Angela waved her off with a, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

By her forth champagne bullshit she had forgotten her trepidation of coming to the club and lost herself in dancing with a boy who probably reminded her a little too much of Jordan. She had a type, she couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t had a boyfriend since and she was still untouched as far as that was concerned. Unless you count the time she let Steven Habek fingered her in the locker room during Prom her senior year. She’d learned then she knew how to give pretty good head. She hadn’t even meant to do it, it’s just something that happened, ya know? She and Steven never spoke again after that night, but she swore he sniffed his finger every time they made eye contact. She didn’t miss him.

She hadn’t thought about that night since she graduated. She wasn’t thinking about anything except playfully grinding back into the man behind her. She just, pretended like she was free from all responsibility. She let the stranger come around in front of her, dancing her through the crowd. She was careless about where they ended up. It was high time she made out in a seedy bar with a total stranger. So when his mouth found hers, she didn’t hesitate to return it. There was no passion in her lips, just lust and an overwhelming desire to feel wanted again. Arms wrapped around her, her fingers found his hair and pulled him closer. It wasn’t as soft, it was a bit thick, matted, curly maybe. Didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to compare him to a ghost.

Her back hits something but she felt her new partner surge her forward and the wall fell away from behind her. The cold air that hit her skin told her they’d gone through a door and outside. Still, she was backed up until her bare back hit cold bricks and the stranger started to kiss down her throat.

“Hey, cool it,” she gasped, trying to push him away. But he grabbed her hand and pinned it back against the wall.

“Shut up,” he growled, hiking her skirt up her legs.

“No, I said stop,” she disagreed, the full weight of the situation falling on her. She tried to push him again but he didn’t budge.

“I said shut the fuck up, bitch,” he barked, putting his hand over her mouth. “You want it don’t you? You were begging me like a little whore in there…”

Angela’s eyes were wide with sudden fear. She squirmed against him, trying to kick him away but she was overpowered. He pulled her away from the wall and slammed her back against it again.

“Stop fucking squirming!” he yelled. Her head bounced off the wall so hard she saw stars. She lost a few seconds, dazed and lost until a chill of cold air hit her skin in places it shouldn’t. He’d pulled out a knife and cut open the front of her dress. She opened her mouth to scream, getting half a shout out before the knife was at her throat.

“Scream and I’ll cut your pretty fucking throat, bitch,” he threatened in a dark tone. His eyes were black as pitch, his five o’clock stubble that had once felt enticing on her skin now felt like sand paper. “You got me all excited and now you’re gonna take what I give you.”

“Stop,” she whimpered. “Please stop.”

“Aw, what’s amatter baby? Got cold feet?” She heard the unmistakable sound of his pants unzipping. He shifted her weight as he pulled his dick out, and stroked it with his hand a few times. His breath was on her skin, his massive body covering hers. To anyone outside of this horror it would look like they’d just stepped outside into this alley to fuck, but in her mind she knew she’d made a fatal mistake.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pull out and you’ll swallow it down like a good little whore,” he cooed. He was about to shove in when suddenly he was yanked backwards. Angela had closed her eyes, not wanting to watch him as he took advantage of her. But when she realized he wasn’t pressing her against the wall anymore she peered through her lashes just in time to see her assailant take a fist to the face.

He stumbled backwards. In the dark she couldn’t tell who was there to come to her rescue, but she didn’t care. She pulled the torn dress around her body as best as possible to hopefully maintain some dignity, whatever dignity a moment like this could afford. As time caught up to her, she watched her hero grab her assalter and throw him into the brick wall opposite her and throw three more punches to his face, then a knee to the groin.

Her attacker groaned a fell to the ground. But the hero wasn’t finished. A swift kick to the mans’ stomach ended it. Then he spat on the ground in front of him. He took two steps away from the man on the ground and stopped an arms length away from her. That’s when he stepped into the light of the street lamps and Angela could swear her heart stopped beating all together.

“Are you alright?” Jordan Catalano asked.

She couldn’t even form words. The shock of seeing his perfect blue eyes at the exact moment she needed him brought tears to her eyes. She sobbed once and shook her head. “Jordan?” she managed to whimper.

“Yeah,” he said stepping closer and taking off his jacket. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” He wrapped her up in his jacket. It still smelled the same, or maybe he still smelled the same because Angela rationalize that it couldn’t be the same jacket he had four years ago.

The soft way he said he was there made another sob fall from her mouth. It was in that instant that Angela Chase found herself swept up in Jordan Catalano’s arms all over again and it felt like home. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent deeply. He closed his eyes and just felt her for a moment. She hadn’t changed in shape or smell. She still fit his arms the same. “I’m here…” he whispered again. “C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”

Angela just cried and nodded, letting Jordan take the lead for her. She was far from being able to make decisions for herself. He led her to a car and put her inside it, zipping her up in his coat to protect her from the cold and protect her modesty. Angela was so busy crying he pulled the seatbelt over her and made sure she was securely in his car. Before leaving her in the passenger seat he took her face in his hands and dried her eyes with his sleeve, then left a soft kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right back, okay?” he whispered. “Just gonna get in the drivers side.”

Angela nodded and kept crying. He hated leaving her even for the thirty seconds it would take for him to get into the car. In truth, the asshole that attacked her was lucky he hadn’t killed him. Jordan had always felt protective of Angela, but after what just happened he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to let her out of his sight again. With great effort, he stood up and closed the passenger side door. With a glance over his shoulder, he found her attacker still on the ground outside the bar.

No, he couldn’t let this fucker get away with it. He pulled out his phone and quickly dialed 911. “Yea, there’s a drunk bum in the alley behind Flannery’s Pub. Looks like he got the shit kicked out of him. Might want to send someone out here.”

If Angela wanted to press charges later, there would be a record now. He knew her well enough to know that if he called for an attempted rape she’d shut down and tell the police it was nothing. He’d talk to her about that tomorrow, after she’d slept and had some time to think. When he closed his flip phone he walked around the car and got in. Angela was still crying softly when he got into the car. It wasn’t a Camaro anymore. Now he had a Dodge Charger, black with red interior. He fired the engine to life and roared out into the street just as sirens sounded in the distance.

He reached over and took her hand. “Want me to take you home?” he asked, looking over at her for a second.

Angela shook her head. “No,” she admitted.

He was quiet for a moment. “Want to come back to my place then?” he asked. “Just, ya know, for like a little bit?”

Angela sniffled. She wasn’t crying anymore, but she felt like she should be. She nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed.

“Cool,” he said with a soft half-smile.

“What are you doing here, Jordan?” she asked after a long moment.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he murmured.

“I asked you first,” she countered.

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. Nothing had changed, not really. She was still his Angela to the core. “I live here, Ange,” he shrugged. “Moved here when I dropped out. I needed to get away from my dad.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?” she asked, her thumb absently running over his fingers.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I guess you’re taking classes here or something, right?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, looking down at their hands. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I saw him push you out the backdoor,” he said. “I was on the other side of the bar, it took me the whole time to fight through the crowd to get there.” He glanced at her. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t get there faster.”

“You got there right on time,” Angela murmured, looking up at him.

Jordan gulped and turned into a driveway, parking the car. “This is me,” he said changing the subject. “I, like, have some roommates.”

“Everyone has roommates, Jordan,” she half-smiled.

“Yeah,” he half-smiled back and got out of the car.


	2. Jordan's Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally supposed to just be a one-shot, but I wrote so much that I decided to break it into two parts. By the time I finished this part I realized that there's more to this story than I thought. 
> 
> Work un-beta'd.

He came around to the passenger side door to help her out. It had started to snow a little. He took her hand and brought her to the back door and let her into the kitchen. There was only the light over the sink on and the rest of the room was cast in a lazy shadow. There was the sound of a TV coming from a darkened living room. Jordan led her through and two guys looked up at them, a pipe still smoldering between them.

“Hey,” Jordan greeted them.

“Hey.”

“This… this is Angela,” he said.

“Holy shit, Angela? Like, _the_ Angela?” one of them asked, passing the glass pipe to Jordan. He put his hand up in a no thank you gesture.

“Yea, that Angela,” he said. “Ange, this is Tyler and Mike. They’re like, my roommates.”

“Holy shit,” the one named Tyler repeated, offering the pipe to her.

“She doesn’t want any,” Jordan said, gently pushing it away.

“Oh, word,” Tyler said. “Well, Happy Fucking New Year.”

“Yeah,” Jordan nodded, then drew Angela closer to him. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“Yeah,” she said softly.

He took her upstairs and down the hall to the last room on the left. He pointed to Mike’s room the Tyler’s room, then the bathroom. Then he turned on a lamp next to his bed in his room and closed the door behind them. He ran his tongue along his bottom lip nervously as he crossed to his closet, pulling out an old Nirvana shirt and a in a drawer he found a pair of flannel pants, handing them to her. “Here…”

“Thanks,” Angela said quietly, still bundled up in his coat. “I’ll just… go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Kay. I’ll… stay here.”

“Cool…”

She stood there for a long moment before starting to leave. She stopped at the door. “Hey,” she said, awkwardly. “Like, thanks. For like, paying attention. I think… tonight would have been really different if you weren’t there.”

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “No problem.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and then stepped out into the hallway. She spent a long time in the bathroom, longer than she normally would if she were just changing. She needed to cry some more, and wash her face, and like, take stock of the fact that if she hadn’t left her dorm tonight she’d never have ended up here, in Jordan Catalano’s bathroom after almost being raped in an alley.

When she came back to his room, she knocked softly and opened the door. Jordan was putting out blankets on the floor and a few pillows. When she stepped in again he stood up and awkwardly motioned. “You can, like, sleep in my bed tonight. Like, if you want.”

“Are you going to sleep on the floor?” Angela asked.

“I guess,” he muttered.

“You… don’t want to sleep next to me?” she asked.

“Like, I just figured you wouldn’t want me to,” he shrugged.

She bit her bottom lip, tucking her hair behind her ear again and crossing to his bed. She took a moment to sit down on the edge like she didn’t know if she’d fit on the bed by herself.

“I don’t really, like, want to be alone right now,” she admitted, looking up at Jordan. “We can, like, both fit.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. He’d changed too, she finally noticed. He wasn’t in jeans anymore, but another pair of flannel pants and an oversized sweater. “Okay. Cool.”

He sat on the other side of the bed and after a long, drawn out, akward silence, they both laid down. Angela pulled the blankets over her body and Jordan pulled the blankets off the floor for him to use. That way they weren’t, like, actually in bed together, right?

“Kay, so like, I’ll turn off the light then,” he said.

“Okay,” Angela agreed. He rolled and clicked off the light. Outside some fireworks started to go off. On his bedside table the clock changed from 11:59 to 12:00.

“I guess it’s, like, 2000 now, or something,” he said in the dark.

“You told your roommates about me?” she ignored the observation.

“So?” he countered. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“Well, like, what did you say about me?” she went on.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Stuff.”

“What kind of stuff, Jordan?”

“Just stuff…”

She sat up and looked at him for a moment. “What did you say about me?”

“It doesn’t matter, okay?” he replied, sitting up. Now he remembered why they didn’t work out. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, it’s that she could never just let something go.

“It matters to me,” she disagreed.

“Why?”

“Because it does,” she replied.

They sat in silence for a few beats while he tried to figure out just how to answer her.

“They found a picture of you in my wallet, okay?” he admitted.

“You keep a picture of me in your wallet?”

“Yeah,” he said tiredly.

“Why?”

“Christ, Ange, ‘cause I just do,” he sighed in exasperation.

“It’s been, like, four years,” she said.

“And I still love you, okay?!” He hadn’t meant to say it. But there it was and he couldn’t take it back even if he wanted. Once he said the words, he realized he didn’t want to take them back. He’d wanted to tell her that four years ago and didn’t have the words to say it.

“What?” she asked aghast.

“I love you,” he repeated. “I never, like, stopped.”

“Since when?” she asked, but there wasn’t any accusation or harshness to her tone. It sounded like a genuine question that she needed answered.

Jordan shrugged. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I can’t like, pin point exactly when I knew. I like, just knew. Like. Maybe always. Like, since I tried to kiss you in my car? I don’t know, Ange. I just… I love you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” she asked, her voice cracking a little. He was making her cry again and this time it wasn’t because someone else had hurt her, it was because _he_ had hurt her and was hurting her again. That made his stomach lurch. Angela felt her eyes stinging and thanked every deity she didn’t believe in that the lights were out so he couldn’t see her cry again.

“I’m telling you now,” he shrugged. “I tried to tell you before. You didn’t want to talk to me…”

Angela felt her heart breaking all over again. She couldn’t really see Jordan’s face, but she could hear his tone. Lost, insecure, scared even. She’d hurt him too, hadn’t she?

“I didn’t want to talk to anyone,” she admitted. They were silent again for a while. She could almost hear his breathing. Somehow, she was breathing in time with him. “I still have your note.”

“Which one?”

“The last one.”

“Oh.”

She gulped. There was something in the air between them. A hesitant expectancy. They were both afraid to move in case they broke this moment completely, but they were also afraid _not_ to move. Not to say something.

“I’m sorry.”

It was both of them. They both said it at exactly the same time.

“Me too.” They both said that too. And as if they were the same person, they both smiled in the same shy way, looking down at their hands.

“I forgive you.” That was Angela. And she was surprised to find that she meant it. She really did. She’d forgiven him a long time ago. And Rey too. If only she knew how to reach out to her friend, but that was probably a lost cause. Jordan was a free radical, bouncing off things as free as he could be. It was only a matter of time for him to catch up to her.

“Why?” he asked. It was so strange for him to ask she actually blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“Why?” he repeated. “It’s not like I deserve it or anything.”

“Everyone deserves forgiveness,” she shook her head.

“What about second chances?”

“Yeah, I think so,” she nodded.

“Me too,” he nodded.

She heard him move before she saw it or felt it. When his fingers brushed her face, she leaned into his touch. He’d feel the tears on her cheeks, she knew. But Jordan didn’t process the wetness, he processed how soft her skin was. How it still felt the same after all this time.

“Happy New Year, Ange,” he whispered, leaning closer.

“Happy New Year, Jordan,” she whispered back as their foreheads touched.


End file.
